


… and in the End, there was a Promise of Wrath

by cuphugaddict



Series: The Wrath of the Lamb [4]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crispin is a BAMF, Fluff and Angst, Jealous Hannibal, M/M, Not Beta Read, THE MEETING
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 00:58:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13559298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuphugaddict/pseuds/cuphugaddict
Summary: After the reading of Frederick Chilton's new book, the time for the inevitable meeting with the two men who had considerably shaped his past has come. It's a good thing that he has Crispin on his side. Literally.





	… and in the End, there was a Promise of Wrath

**Author's Note:**

> So I tried something and I hope my experiment hasn't failed miserably - I tried to write something, somebody, who could actually threaten Hannibal Lecter. [Do you know who hard that is?!]
> 
> You guys tell me if it worked.  
> Seriously, I'd love comments, even containing suggestins for further development or different suggestions on the topic as I don't know yet if I am going to continue this further.

 

 

Frederick clapped the cover of the book close and exhaled. That hadn’t been so bad, at least until now. Who knew what could happen if the evening progressed? But he had decided to take the evening one step at a time and so he looked up at the admittedly rather dark looking room and waited in anticipation. To say he was not even a little giddy would be a blatant lie, although what he could say was that his expectations were by far lower than the last time he had done this. Back then, he still wanted – _needed_ the approval like an addict craved heroin. Nowadays, he considered himself to be above such things. Which didn’t mean that one couldn’t enjoy the applause – that started right at that moment. Frederick smiled, pulled the thick rimmed reading glasses from his nose, folded them and carefully put them in his breast pocket and bowed slightly. He might not need the attention of the general public like he used to, but damn it, it did feel really good.

Crispin and himself have had numerous conversations over the timespan of a little over a year if he should do this. Once his new book was out, Frederick was sure that publishers would be requesting public readings. An assumption that had been proven right. He however, wasn’t sure if he was prepared for this, or rather, if he was willing to put himself into the spotlight like that. Hannibal and Will were still on the loose after all. Then again, publicly slaughtering him wouldn’t be something either of them would do. Therefore, he had finally agreed to do it. He had spent a total of three years writing _The Desolation of Dolarhyde_ after all – now he was curious about what people thought about it.

Apparently, the terrors of re-living the whole trauma, partly needing therapy sessions himself, had paid off, as he was assured during the hour of signing. Those sessions that he had been reluctant to take, to say the least, had indeed been a good (Crispin’s) idea. Otherwise he might probably have gotten up and ran right out the door about the time the fifth person had asked about his eye. Or, absence thereof, rather. What might seem like a marketing coup actually wasn’t one. Frederick finally was comfortable enough to not cover up his scars with about a ton of make-up or use his contact lenses or his prosthetic. Thank Crispin for that too. However tonight, he had to wear the prosthetic, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to be acceptably articulate during the reading that lasted about three quarters of an hour. It still tired him out – to speak clearly for a longer period of time without his prosthetic.

During the whole signing, Crispin stayed at the back of the room, casually leaning against the cream-colored wall, smiling at Frederick. The whole time. The ability to constantly smile and actually mean it still amazed Frederick. Even after almost six years together. Somehow, this ability of his partner had become Frederick’s anchor for just about any stressful situation he found himself in. Unconsciously, as this was just about the cheesiest thing anyone could bring up, but it didn’t make it less true.

Once the last person had left the room and Frederick had had a few words with his publishers, Crispin was waiting with a glass of champagne and his coat at the door. “Ready to go home and celebrate?” his partner said with that special gleam in his eyes that assured Frederick that it would not be wise to drink too much of the champagne or else it might interfere with the celebration Crispin had in mind. Frederick grinned and took a sip of the offered beverage, looking at the blonde who had chosen to wear a particularly well-cut, dark blue suit today – doubtlessly to pose as the pretty boyfriend – in appreciation. Frederick of course would never ask for an action like this as Crispin was so much more than just a pretty face. The man’s intelligence sometimes terrified Frederick. Still, Crispin seemed to enjoy that particular role quite a bit – and seriously, why would Frederick complain about having a beautiful man at his side? Still, Crispin wouldn’t need a well-cut suit for it; he’d doubtlessly look breathtaking even if he wore sweatpants and an old t-shirt. As a matter of fact, Frederick knew that he did. Smugly, he winked at his partner and Crispin chuckled. “God, do you know how sexy you look right now?” Six years ago, Frederick hadn’t even dared to dream that somebody could tell him something like that ever again. Four years ago, he still wasn’t sure if Crispin was playing games with him and/or teasing him. Now though, he believed him and he relished in the fact that he knew the other man meant it. He grinned, “Funny, I was just about to say the same …”

After another sip of the champagne, Frederick let himself be helped into his coat, stealing a quick kiss from his partner and both went out of the pompous library the publishers had secured as a suitable venue. Holding hands, both men set out for the car that was waiting for them just around the corner – Crispin’s personal driver – and Frederick was just about to ask if his dear boyfriend had been bored to death while he had signed what felt like a million books, as a certain voice stopped them both dead in their tracks.

“Frederick.”

 _Why now?_ This was the only question that echoed through Frederick’s brain at that very moment. For the first time in his life, everything was perfect, at least perfect for him. Granted, he would rather not have the scars of the numerous skin transplants he had had after the Dolarhyde fiasco and of course it would be nice if one’s face didn’t look as if it had melted from your skull without the prosthetic, but he had a man at his side who had convinced him that neither of this mattered. And that was more than he could have ever hoped for.

Frederick exhaled, strangely calm for a situation like that, and turned around, Crispin following his move. Both men found themselves face to face with Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham. Both looked good, as Frederick couldn’t help but notice. Dressed sharply as ever, mocking smirk playing around his lips, Hannibal’s eyes settled on the joined hands in between himself and his partner. Then, his calculating gaze settled on Frederick. “So, you published a new book, Frederick. I have to say, I am impressed. I didn’t think you had it in you …”

Frederick squared his shoulders and tried to hold the gaze of the other psychiatrist. Admittedly, that had always be a problem. Suddenly Will moved and put a hand on Hannibal’s shoulder, “Hannibal …” It almost sounded like a warning and surprisingly, Hannibal didn’t continue. Will directed that awkward grin of his towards Frederick, “It’s good that you did this, Frederick. I hope it will be a success. You deserve it …” The ‘after what happened to you’ hung heavily in the cold air between them.

Frederick felt Crispin squeeze his hand and suddenly, he felt bold enough to answer, “We’ll see about the success. However, I did not write a single word about any of you two in there, so the reason why you’re so interested in that book that the both of you came out of hiding keeps eluding me.”

Hannibal looked every bit like he wanted to answer “As did many other things …” but he stayed silent. Surprisingly. Will though took a step forward, “I believe we haven’t met yet … Will Graham”, he said and offered his hand in Crispin’s direction, who took it. “Crispin Du Maurier. I believe it’s safe to say that I have heard as much about you as you doubtlessly have about me …” Will nodded courtly and after a brief handshake, the two of them stepped apart again. The air between them was so thick that it felt as if one could cut it with a knife.

“The two of us only wanted to congratulate you on your book, Frederick”, Hannibal finally said, “And see how you were, after everything. Apparently, you have done quite well for yourself.” His gaze wandered over to rest on Crispin for a few highly accusing seconds, “I have to admit that this particular thing surprised me too. It almost seems as if I have previously underestimated you Frederick. Then again, I could be wrong …”

“Oh you have been wrong about a lot of things, Hannibal”, Crispin now spoke directly to the psychiatrist.

Hannibal’s cold gaze snapped over to Crispin and his face moved into a frown, “Time will tell, I guess.” At that sentence that sounded like one of those promises that Hannibal intended to keep, a shudder ran down Frederick’s spine.

His boyfriend, however, didn’t seem impressed in the slightest, “If there is one thing that I can assure you, Hannibal Lecter, it is the following: If you or Mr. Graham do anything, _orchestrate_ anything, that might harm Frederick, I will raise hell and both of you are going to pay for it.” With a side glance at Will, who looked highly doubtful, Crispin smirked, “You know I would be able to, _Doctor Lecter_ , and I would not hesitate to do so.”

In wonder, Frederick realized that maybe for the first time since he knew Hannibal Lecter, there was a slight look of panic on his features. “… You wouldn’t.”

Crispin smirked, “Oh believe me, if you were to take the only thing that means anything to me in this world, I would take yours in a heartbeat.” Crispin looked over at Will, “And you know that I would succeed. I know about all your safe houses, I know each and every one of your aliases and I could most likely detect if you thought of new ones. It would take time but I would find you and make you regret your actions.”

Frederick had never seen that particular side of his partner, but he had to admit that it was more than terrifying. Hannibal apparently thought so as well as his usually even voice wavered slightly, “What would you do? Kill me? … Kill Will?”

Crispin chuckled, “Oh no, I wouldn’t kill either of you. That would let you get out way too easy. I most certainly wouldn’t kill you, Hannibal, but I would take the one thing that means the world to you.” Hannibal looked absolutely terrified while Will only frowned at Crispin. Frederick had to say that he was lost as well. What did Crispin mean? Hannibal’s dignity? Alana had tried that one and the success had been quite questionable. Crispin chuckled and looked directly at Will, “Your mind, Mr. Graham.”

After a few moments of even heavier silence than before, Hannibal spoke again: “I cannot say how I could have been so wrong about you, Crispin. You had so much potential … But you refused to make use of it. And now look where it has left you?”

Crispin raised an eyebrow, “Where has it left me Hannibal?”

Frederick felt all three pairs of eyes wander over to him and he suddenly wished for the ground to open and swallow him whole. “It has left you with a man who dedicates most horribly cheesy notes in his book to you.” While Frederick was sure that if his skin wasn’t transplanted, he would sport a nice, dark-red blush by then, Crispin only looked over at him, took his hand and smiled lovingly at him, “Yes, it did.” Again, Frederick felt as if he would soon melt into a puddle. It was nowadays a quite common notion, but still it kept surprising him. “Let’s go home …” Crispin said and after a pointed look at Hannibal, instead of which Crispin could just have screamed ‘Are we clear?!’ at the same, he and Frederick turned around and started to walk towards their waiting car, hands joined again.

Yet again, Hannibal’s voice stopped the two of them, even though he was supposed that statement was directed solely towards Crispin, “I do not understand you, Crispin. He’s so different from any of us …”

Frederick saw his partner smile. Then he turned his head just as much that Hannibal could see his smile and he said “Exactly” before both started walking away again. Crispin held the door of the car open for Frederick before he got in on the other side. Once they had started driving, Frederick took Crispin’s hand in his again, “Have I told you recently how much I love you?”

Crispin chuckled, “You have but it never hurts to hear it again.”

Both men met in a loving kiss before Frederik rested his head against Crispin’s shoulder, “I can’t believe they showed up like that … Just like that, as if we had seen each other last week.”

Frederick felt his lover’s hand travel over his shoulder, “As much as it would pain Hannibal to admit it, he is interested in you. Why else would he come circling back every once in a while?”

Frederick chuckled, “Well, it was you why he circled back this time, I suppose. I’m fine with that though. I just hope that it will be the last time we saw any of them.”

Crispin pressed his lips against Frederick’s temple, “Should I tell you a secret?” Frederick smiled and hummed in approval.

“Do you remember the painting in Hannibal’s old dining room?” Crispin asked and Frederick confirmed, “Ungh! Yes. Leda and the Swan. How can anyone forget that monstrosity?”

Crispin chuckled, “It’s a fake.”

Frederick whipped up from his comfortable position, “WHAT?!”

Crispin smiled, “It’s a fake, I had it painted for him. I wanted him to know what he did to me, how it had made me feel. That is one thing Hannibal never thinks about: How the other people trapped in his little schemes feel. So I gave it to him as a reminder. I think it tells a lot about the man that he hung that up in his dining room.”

Frederick chuckled in awe. “So he practically had you witness all of the horrors? He wanted you to bear witness …”

Crispin nodded, “I suppose. I think it pained him more than anything that I didn’t play the part he intended for me.”

“The part Will Graham plays now …” Frederick concluded and the blonde nodded. Frederick’s lips curved into a smile, “Crispin Du Maurier, do _you_ know how sexy you are right now?” Frederick asked, throwing Crispin’s words from earlier that evening back at him.

Crispin chuckled, “Yeah about that …” Frederick fully expected a make-out session on the back of the car. It wouldn’t be their first one. He was however surprised as the younger man pulled a small box out of his coat pocket. Frederick’s breath caught. “Cris …”

The man smiled, “I have always hated my last name and the natural connection to certain members of my family. So I wanted to ask you if you would do me a huge favor and change that?”

Frederick’s jaw slacked. Actually slacked and he couldn’t do a thing about it. There sat this beautiful man who had just scared off one Hannibal goddamn Lecter and proposed to him. “I … I don’t know what to say …” Frederick stammered and Crispin laughed out loudly. “How about yes, Doctor Chilton?”

Frederick smiled, “Of course … Of course I am going to marry you! As if you even had to ask …” There was a tear rolling down his unharmed eye and his vision got slightly blurry in the process. Still, he could see the wonderful ring Crispin placed on his finger: Black with an emerald and a sapphire. Crispin had once again outdone himself. Both men met in another searing kiss and Frederick thought that his heart would soon burst out of his chest. He leaned back against Crispin – his fiancée – and clasped the man’s hand in between his own, still stealing glances at the wonderful engagement ring he had just received. Suddenly, a thought hit Frederick and he started to chuckle.

“What is it?” Crispin asked and Frederick looked up from where his head rested on the blonde’s shoulder, “I think we should run an engagement announcement. In the press. Just imagine how pissed off Hannibal will be that you are actually going to take my surname.”

Crispin chuckled and said, “I already have a very prominent spot on hold, my dear.”

Frederick raised an eyebrow, “You were so sure about me saying yes?” he teased.

Crispin placed another kiss on his temple, “I took the dedication note – which I love, by the way – as a good sign …” Frederick smiled and grabbed the copy of _The Desolation of Dolarhyde_ that lay on the backseat. He opened the cover and looked at the words he meant with all his heart. He liked them too – Hannibal Lecter could go to hell.

 

   


* * *

 

 _To Crispin,_  
who traced every scar countless times  
\- with hands and lips –  
convincing me they are a sign of strength and not weakness.

* * *

 

 


End file.
